


Old Friends

by Jwash



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Chloe Price Fights A Kid, F/F, Maybe friendship maybe not, Poor Life Choices, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jwash/pseuds/Jwash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's happy hour at Welshers, Arcadia Bay's premier dive bar, but Chloe is anything but happy. After all, two's company, but three's a crowd, especially when the third in question is Frank Bowers. It's enough to make her want to punch something, or someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friends

“...So he just jams on the gas and goes right through a chainlink fence!”

 

Rachel snorted. Chloe just raised her lip in a sneer, but Frank wasn't paying attention to her. He only had eyes for Rachel, who hadn't heard the story.

 

“And then he leaps out the passenger door and sprints off, yelling 'they're after me!'”

 

Both Frank and Rachel fell about laughing. It was one of his favourites, the tale of Mad George (whose real name was Charlie), the worst drug dealer in the Pacific Northwest. Chloe sighed and slumped back in the booth. Rachel had talked her into coming out tonight to Welshers with Frank, and she was seriously beginning to regret it. Chloe had hoped that Frank would bring his own friends, and she could just slip away with Rachel and corner her for an evening, but no. She sighed again and stood up.

 

“Hey Rachel, I'm getting a drink,” she said, abruptly, her fist clenched at her side. _Because holy fuck_ , she thought, _I am not drunk enough for this_.

 

“Oh, cool. Get me one while you're up?” Rachel replied, smiling and passing her a ten-dollar note.

 

Chloe wandered over to the bar, weaving through the burly patrons to the bar. She propped herself up on her elbows in a slick of spilled beer. The barman was chewing the fat with a couple of trucker types down the bar, completely oblivious to her. She fished in her pocket for change and contemplated buying another pint of watery beer. She heard a gust of laughter behind her, and glanced back to see Rachel laughing again at some joke, and she felt her stomach turn.

 

“Hey, excuse me,” she said, trying to get the barman's attention, but he was sunk deep in conversation. She gritted her teeth. The smell of body odor and off-beer in this place was starting to get to her. She could have dealt with it on her own, and with Rachel she might even have enjoyed herself, but Frank being here... God, what did he even want with her? It wasn't like she even liked him or anything, right?

 

“Hey, trying to get served here?” she said.

 

The barman's head twitched, but he didn't turn around.

 

“C'mon, I know you can hear me,” she said again, leaning forward on the bar, but he'd stopped paying attention.

 

_Unbefuckinglievable_. She pushed herself back from the bar, straight into some gangly kid from the lumber mill. His drink spilled all down his front and her back, and Chloe swivelled on her heels, glaring at him.

 

“Oh jeez, sorry,” he said, cringeing.

 

“Watch where the fuck you're going,” she spat back.

 

“What, I said I'm sorry,” the kid said, frowning.

 

Over his shoulder, Chloe saw Frank and Rachel in deep conversation. Neither of them had even noticed.

 

“Like fuck you are,” Chloe said, and shoved the kid hard.

 

A glass smashed nearby, and she heard a hubbub of raised voices. A few burly bodies nearby stepped forward, but Chloe's attention was fixed on the kid in front of her. He squared his shoulders, but his stance was off, uncertain about whether or not to hit a girl. Chloe made the choice for him and swung a left hook at his head. It connected awkwardly, but in the atmosphere of the bar, it was enough. Something heavy hit Chloe in the back, and everything descended into shouting. The last thing she saw was Rachel standing up, her mouth open in shock, before she pitched forward at the kid, flailing her arms, screaming bloody murder.

 

* * *

 

Next thing she knew, someone was splashing cold water over her face. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror, lit up by the sickly fluorescent glow of the womens bathroom's lone neon tube. She looked awful. Her left eye socket was red and swollen, blood crusted her lip and glistened fresh around her nostril, and when she lifted a hand to touch her face, she saw her raw, torn-up knuckles. A hand grabbed hers and ran it under the cold tap, making her jolt and turn around. Rachel was stood beside her, face set as she concentrated on washing Chloe's wounds. Chloe wanted to say something, anything, but she was too distracted by Rachel's hand on hers. Luckily, Rachel was hardly so tongue-tied.

 

“What the hell were you doing?” she said, looking up at Chloe, her eyebrows knitted in anger and confusion.

 

“I... I...” Chloe stammered, unprepared for just how angry Rachel looked.

 

“You punched that kid in the face. Half those guys were ready to kill you,” Rachel went on, wiping the blood from around Chloe's nose, making her blush. “If Frank hadn't stepped in when he did-”

 

“Fuck Frank,” Chloe muttered.

 

"No,” Rachel said, dabbing at Chloe's eye with a cool, damp pad of paper. “You don't get to say that. He's out there now sorting out damages with the owner. If it weren't for him, you'd be halfway to the station by now, and you know David would go apeshit.”

 

Chloe's hearing was coming back, and she could hear the hubbub through the door. Raised male voices, and one slightly quieter, calmer one. She could also feel a dull ache starting in her side.

 

“Frank's an asshole, though,” Chloe said, her words spitting through her fat lip, and nasal from her bloodied nose. “You heard about him and those dogs...”

 

“He's over that now,” Rachel said. “You've seen him and Pompidou. He's changed, Chloe.”

 

“Still sells drugs to kids,” Chloe muttered.

 

“Yeah? And you're one of the kids he sells drugs to, Chloe,” Rachel said, running a hand through her hair and sighing. “Is that what this is about? Me hanging out with Frank?”

 

Chloe didn't want to admit it. Her mouth formed around the word 'no', but they caught in her throat, and she coughed, spluttered, and sobbed instead.

 

“N-n-n...” she tried to get it out, her chest heaving.

 

She bit her lip hard, trying to calm herself. What the fuck was wrong with her? Keep it together, for fuck's sake, she told herself.

 

“Chloe, c'mon, you can't just keep acting up like this. What's wrong?”

 

Chloe sniffed, swallowing heavily. “It just... makes me sick, seeing you with him. He's a scumbag, Rache. H-he wouldn't deserve you. I don't want you to get hurt...”

 

Rachel stood up straight and folded her arms, smiling thinly.

 

“What do you think is going to happen?” she said. “Frank's can be an asshole, sure, but he's not as bad as you think. Just give him a chance.”

 

_It's not about Frank_ , Chloe thought, with sudden clarity. Her eyes flicked to Rachel's lips, and a thought paralysed her. She opened her mouth to tell Rachel everything, how scared she was of life, of Frank, how angry she was at her dad for dying, at Max for leaving, and how she wasn't sure she could survive if Rachel left her too. She felt herself shrink down, like a little kid pleading _don't go, don't go_. Her throat choked, and she felt tears bead in the corners of her eyes.

 

“Please don't throw up,” Rachel said with a smile, and Chloe shut her mouth, casting her eyes down low.

 

Rachel looked Chloe up and down, putting an arm around her and guiding her towards the door.

 

“C'mon, let's get you home. I told them we'd take you out the back.”

 

Chloe nodded. “I love you,” she muttered under her breath.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Frank's story is based in reality. I appreciate your reading this, and any feedback is good feedback!


End file.
